#i'll try to just. make a local account later i guess. SIGH

[c0nnverse]

i just finished building a PC and i will let you all know that the windows 11 installation process is fucking horrible

[nagasakidivision]

Up From the Ashes

I need to stretch out my short story writing muscles a bit since basically all I've done lately (as in.....the past three months, for the love of God please help me,) is academic and technical writing. I need to get used to writing these guys in prose so I'm going to fling out a quick story into the void. o^o This does take place after the first drama track, as it's during the preliminaries but it doesn't really spoil anything involved there beyond what's been heavily implied in the preview! This primarily focuses on and is from the view point of Haruto since he's the one I'm least accustomed to writing so I need practice but all of Thirteen shows up!

Well, Haruto thought, staring up at the tarp that accounted for a roof, that was a shitshow. The nicest thing he could say about their last battle was that technically he'd been the last person standing. Even if he had to be physically carried to the medical tent (Chuouku would not deign to give a small district like Nagasaki a proper medical bay for the tournament) by the on-site EMTs and blacked out somewhere along the way, he had survived.

There was a soft rattle as a bottle of pills hit the bed. He snapped his head towards the sound. Shirou, in practice the last to fall, was already back on his feet and seemingly doing just fine. It didn't necessarily surprise Haruto, at this point he was reasonably sure the coroner had talked to Death itself so much at his job that the two of them had a deal, and now he couldn't die.

Maybe Death had taken away his ability to make sound when he moved and that was how he was so damned quiet all the time. He'd lost count of how many times the coroner had accidentally snuck up on him and scared him out of his mind. He was as silent as the grave, you could say. If Haruto were in the mood he'd have let himself laugh at his own joke.

"Here." Shirou sat down on a folding chair beside the bed. "Painkillers. I'd imagine you're not feeling particularly well right now."

"How'd you guess?" It came out more snappish than he'd wanted, and he immediately regretted it. He took a breath, trying to force some of the tension out of his body. "Yeah. It doesn't hurt, though. Feels like a bad hangover."

"It will hurt soon." The coroner pushed the bottle towards him, then put a can of soda next to it. "Your nervous system's still in shock. Honestly, I'm surprised you can talk right now after that fight."

Haruto stared at the colorful label. "I don't drink soda. Too sweet for me."

"I thought you would prefer it to the coffee I make." His tone was as distantly polite as always, but a ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Drink it. Caffeine will make the medication hit your system faster. You can thank me later."

The philosopher grumbled, but popped the tab, dropped a tablet of the painkiller in his mouth, and slammed down the sugar-drenched monstrosity fast enough that he hopefully wouldn't taste it. In spite of his best efforts, the cloying flavor stuck to his mouth, intermingling with the sourness of the medication. He winced as he set the can back down. "God, that's vile."

Shirou sighed and shook his head. "Well, next time I'll make sure to bring some of that tea you'll actually drink with me."

"Appreciated," Haruto said flatly. "Remember, don't heat the water to a full boil, stop just short of it or you burn the tea. Oh, and the steep time is just four minutes. Don't go over."

Honestly, he thought, at this point he deserved it, and the second he got home he was breaking out the most expensive loose-leaf canister he had, and then the really expensive floral gin he'd been hoarding. Anything to keep himself from thinking about his performance in the local preliminaries.

It had started out well, at least when they were in the first few rounds and dealing with brand new teams in a minor district with only their mics and delusions of grandeur. Practice had paid off, and Shirou's experience was carrying them where Damien and Haruto's enthusiasm would have fallen short, and it felt for a moment like they could coast to a victory. They certainly seemed like the natural winners, and they started playing into it.

It was Damien's idea, he told himself, to try and lean into it. 'Work the audience a little,' he said. 'You'll do better if you have the crowd backing you.' Well, it did for the next few rounds. But now all his mind would fixate on was the bragging, the preening, the eyes of the crowd on him. It had come so naturally to him, too, if you wanted to get anywhere in his field, faking it until you make it was a skill you had to develop. Performing for an audience and performing for a group of more established scholars had little difference. But what had been fun in the moment when they were still winning had quickly soured.

(Ah, and he'd been overdressed for everything too. He'd stood out so much, and that whole façade of perfection had collapsed when he had. The idea of having to walk around the streets of Nagasaki after everyone had seen that shameful display made his skin crawl.)

The flap of the tent rustled. A small figure stood in the frame, then walked forward with a slightly wobbly gait. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Haruto thought. Or the "dog-saint" as the man himself would have put it. His little shadow, the dog Lucia, was at his side as always.

"Yo." Damien's voice lacked any of its usual enthusiasm. "Any news yet?"

"Nothing," Shirou said. "Sounds like they're still deliberating."

The weight of the situation crashed into Haruto all too late. He might have just cost the team their shot at getting into the capital. He knew it was a long shot, but he'd honestly thought it could happen. It had seemed even more possible early into the day that they would be walking right into the Central Ward with their heads held high, all of the higher-ups in the Party of Words confident they'd be playing their toy soldiers against each other before the soldiers fought back. Instead, their story was likely going to die here.

The tent fell quiet. Damien, who had never met a moment of silence he liked and was certainly not going get acquainted with it now, started talking again. "I mean, they have to rule in our favor, right? It was a rap ability that brought Haruto back. Probably. Not our fault we didn't know about it before now."

"Well, there's not really a precedent for one like this. We'll find out. It's out of our hands now." Shirou folded his arms and rested against a tent-pole. After too long of a pause, he added, "We did our best."

They didn't, really, or at least Haruto felt like he didn't. It was such an ugly victory, but it made his choice of a name eerily prophetic. Still, he didn't feel like he'd earned such a lofty title now. Phoenixes were beautiful and graceful. He'd spent too much time staring at hagiography for some of his other classes—you didn't specialize in philosophers like Kierkegaard or Weil or Tillich without trying to understand the manic fervor that burned in them for some divine power beyond human comprehension, inconvertibly scorched into their thoughts and actions, without at the very least trying to dip your toes into theology and religious studies—and so he knew just how powerful an image they were. Wings spread, arising again from their funeral pyre with their beak open in what would no doubt be a noble cry of defiance against death.

His experience of resurrection had been his brain sparking abruptly back to life after tumbling into the dark, whiting out with the sudden influx of sensory input, clawing his way out of the peaceful void of unconsciousness, gasping for air and struggling to stand with limbs still trying to remember how movement worked after everything in his body had simply shut down. The first thing that struck him was the absolute shocked silence of the crowd who he was reasonably sure had been cheering when he'd collapsed. That was the single moment of clarity. Everything from there on was an adrenaline-fueled blur before he was out cold again.

He had been down for the mandatory ten-count and technically Shirou had fallen before he managed to stand, and now the Party of Words referees had no idea what they were supposed to do.

He heard soft padding coming close to him, and then a scrabbling noise as Lucia managed to hoist her way onto his cot. She stared at him a few moments with too-keen eyes that had always felt a bit too intelligent. Then, she sat herself down, and shoved her nose under his hand. He sighed in defeat and began scratching behind her ears.

God, he was exhausted. Maybe the painkillers Shirou had given him were hitting harder than he thought, maybe Lucia had finally gotten him to relax just slightly, or maybe there had just been way too much going on, but he wanted to fall asleep.

He'd closed his eyes and managed to drift into an uncomfortable half-sleep when he heard someone clearing their throat. It took him a moment to process what was off. The voice was feminine. He snapped back awake. One of the referees was standing in the doorframe.

"We've settled on a decision," she said. And then, proving that everyone within the Party was terrible, she left the words hanging.

Haruto felt a twinge of irritation at the obvious manipulation, but obligingly sat up and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Congratulations," she said with a smile. "You'll be representing Nagasaki Prefecture in the regional portion of the Division Rap Battle."

Damien let out an indistinct shout of excitement and pumped his fist before finally finding his words. "Hell yeah!" Then, turning his head to the other two, "See? I told you! You got all worried for nothing."

Shirou gave him as much of a pointed look as his usual serene bearing could betray, a silent statement of were you any less worried? then turned to the Party of Words official. "Thank you. We'll do our best to make Nagasaki proud."

"I'm sure you will." Her eyes shifted, then lingered on Haruto several moments too long. "We'll be watching you with interest." She turned on her heel and left the tent.

The philosopher shifted, an uneasiness he couldn't place settling in the pit of his stomach.

Damien gave voice to Haruto's emotions before he could even place them himself. "Why did that sound like a threat?"

"Let's not jump to the worst possible conclusion," Shirou said. The obvious implication of but let's anticipate it was left hanging in the air, casting a chill over the warmth of their victory.

[babygirlkiki1016]

Dead in the water

Me and Dean sat on the edge of the bed like two teenagers in trouble as Sam was pacing the room, trying to think on what he should say. Finally he stops and looks at the both of us with his arms crossed.

"So let me get this straight, you tell her you wanna wait till she's eighteen but then you decide screw it?"

"....Sammy-" Dean begins to say but Sam cuts him off.

"Dean if your gonna be with her then you can't have sex till she's eighteen."

"Your ove- wait...what? So hold on your ok with this?"

"Yeah, I mean it was gonna happen sooner or later. It's hard for you to stay away from a beautiful lady anyways." I blushed at Sam's comment.

"Well that's new." Dean mutters and he grabs a lock of my hair, making me look over at him.

"What?"

"Your hair it's pink and purple."

"So two emotions at once? I'm guessing pink is love....and purple is fear. So your nervous and feeling loved at the same time!" Sam grabs his laptop and begins taking even more notes.

"Aren't you guys afraid if me?....I mean this isn't normal, don't you guys think I'm a monster or something?" I wondered, was I a monster? Is this what happened to me years ago? Is this what dad was talking about, about how he didn't trust John because...something happened to me?

"Well you certainly have powers, but you can't control it besides you don't know what's going on."

"And you haven't killed anyone." Dean adds.

"But why is this happening now? When I was at home none of this was happening....maybe I should call dad..."

"No, we can't risk him finding us, the next time you call him he'll probably be ready....and I don't want you to go..." Dean admits, while scooting closer, I could tell he wanted to kiss me.

"You two get a room! Wait no, don't do that." Sam laughs, "Alright love birds we need to get back to the subject at hand." He starts researching about the case we're working on, Dean was still staring at me. "Dean!" Sam yells, catching his attention. "Day dream later, work now, you need to take Y/n to get a few things."

"Like what?" He asked.

"Tattoo, gun that kind of stuff, if she's gonna be a hunter then she needs to have the supplies."

"W-Wait what tattoo?" I stutter and Dean points to the pentagram on his chest.

"It's so we don't get possessed, don't worry I'll be there with you."

"Ok, and a gun? I mean why not just use the ones we already have in the back of the impala?"

"Cause you need your own, one that you can carry with you at all times." Dean gets up, puts his shirt back on then grabs the keys to baby. "C'mon we'll get you prepared while Sam does his nerdy thing." I chuckle and follow after him, while grabbing his hand to hold it. He didn't even question it, he pulled me in and kissed my lips, making me yearn for more. Sadly the kiss didn't last long, if we stood there any longer Sam probably would've come out. When we got in the car, the whole drive to the tattoo parlor we were jamming out to eye of the tiger. Which I was still humming it while I was sitting in the chair getting the pentagram on my (wherever you decide to put it.)

"That's a pretty good spot." Dean commented, as he sat next to me.

"Thank you." I grinned, he smiled but it slowly faltered over time, making me grab his hand, squeezing it. "You ok?" I asked worriedly.

"...What happened at the motel can't happen again." He didn't even look at me it was like he was ashamed, did he regret what we did?

"Why not?" He didn't answer, I grabbed his chin and made him face me. Sighing he scoots closer as he lowers his voice.

"Your seventeen Y/n...."

"So? We only have (how many months until you birthday.) I'm technically eighteen already."

"One I don't wanna get arrested and two, we met about about three weeks ago. Don't you think we're moving a little to fast?"

"According to Sam you bone a girl on every case, or at least try to, and your saying it's a little to fast?"

"Good point, but....I just want you to be sure this-" He points to himself, as if himself was a problem. "-is what you want."

"....You are what I want, if you weren't I wouldn't have kissed you. Although if you wanna wait....I respect your decision." That made him smile, he leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"Thank you, now I believe your tattoo is done." I looked down at it, it was sexy as hell. After we payed for it, we went on the road again. When we crossed over the bridge I asked Dean if we could stop to see the lake and look at the sunset. Hesitantly he agreed and pulled over, I got out excitedly. The lake was a dark blue mixed in with pink and orange from the sun, it made me sad to think it was gonna be gone soon.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Not as beautiful as you." Dean flirted making me blush as he pulled me closer by the waist. He started to lean in, those rough lips covering my soft ones.

"I thought we couldn't do this again."

"I meant almost having sex, kisses are something we can definitely do." He smirked and leaned back in again, and as his lips brushed against mine his phone rang. Angrily he sighed and answer it, it was probably Sam.

"What? No we're not!" The look on his face made me giggle as he looked over at me. He started moving his hand, pretending it was Sam who talks to much. "We'll be there in twenty minutes Sam, we still gotta get a gun. Sam, Sammy we're fine....alright we'll be there as soon as we can. Mhm ok bye."

"He's certainly a talker huh?"

"It's a nightmare on how much he can talk...now where were we? Oh yeah I remember." He pulled me back to his side. "Might as well steal as many kisses I can get before we head back to the kiss police." He smirked and smashed his lips against mine once more as his arms wrapped around me. This time it wasn't just a normal kiss, I fought for dominance, my tongue asking for entry. Biting his lip he pulled back, "Y/n keep doing that and I just might say screw it again.." As he said that he slipped from my grasp. "No I promised myself I can wait...c'mon let's get back to Sam." Sighing in disappointment I got back in the car, I guess he's really serious about this.

~~

"I found something." Sam says as we sit next to him. "So there's the three drowning victims this year."

"Any before that?" I wondered.

"Uh, yeah." Sam has a browser window open to The Lake Manitoc Tribune. "DROWNING TAINTS ICE FISHING FESTIVAL." It says, he clicks, and another browser window comes up, again The Tribune: 12-YEAR-OLD Girl DROWNS IN LAKE, Second drowning in 6 months at Lake Manitoc. "Damn, so six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

"So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?" Dean jokes as he grabs a beer, he hands the both of us one.

"Dean no." Sam tries to take it away from me.

"Aww c'mon Sammy one beer won't hurt." Dean winks at me, both of the boys stare at me as I take a sip without any reaction. "See what'd I say? She's fine."

"So this whole lake monster theory." I try getting them back on track. "It, it just bugs me."

"Why?" Sam looks at me in confusion.

"Loch Ness, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing." Sam looks at the Tribune homepage once more.

"Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it." Sam states as he scrolls to the comments section of an article, I point to one.

"Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?" I remember that name, I thought, it's so familiar. Sam reads from the page.

"Christopher Barr, the victim in May." Sam clicks a link, opening a new page. "LOCAL Man IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT." The picture loads and it shows a police officer with Lucas. "Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." Sam clicks the picture for a better look, then scratches his head. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

"That kid must be so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over....." I felt bad, but so far Lucas is our only lead, hopefully he'll help us. We headed to the park planning to talk to Lucas who was our only witness. Kids are laughing and playing as Andrea sits on a bench and watches her kid. Who is at another bench coloring and playing with toy soldiers.

"Can we join you?" Sam asks and Andrea looks up.

"I'm here with my son." She says as I spot Lucas and so does Dean.

"Oh. Mind if we say hi?" Dean asks, and he lightly grabs my arm signaling for me to come with.

"Why are you bringing me with you?"

"Cause of he doesn't talk, then hopefully you can convince him." We approach Lucas, who's drawing a picture.

"How's it going?" Dean kneels down next to the bench where Lucas is coloring, when Lucas doesn't even look up, Dean picks up one of the toy soldiers.

"Oh, I used to love these things." Dean imitates guns and explosions, I chuckle as he tosses the toy soldier down.

"I think crayons is more his thing Dean. That's cool, besides I like to draw myself, including painting." I noticed that he has a pile of drawings on the bench. Dean takes a look, the top one is of a big black swirl, the second one is of a red bicycle.

"Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if we sit and draw with you for a while?" Dean asks, he picks up a crayon. "I'm not so bad myself."

"Oh really?" I ask.

"Yea I'm a pretty good artist."

"Mhm...we'll see." I grab a crayon and a piece of paper, and start drawing. "Can you draw a bird?"

"Oh so this is a competition? Your on."

Dean sits on the bench, picks up a pad of paper, and starts drawing. "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." Dean says to Lucas. "You don't think anyone will listen to you, or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake...hm?" I say, Dean sighs. "Okay, no problem. This is for you." Dean holds out to Lucas the picture he drew, it's stick figures. "This is my family." Dean points at each person in turn. "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me, then a little birdy in the sky-" Dean stops talking as he sees my drawing, which was a lot more detailed than his.

"I thought you could draw Dean." I giggle.

"All right, so I'm a sucky artist...." Dean waits for any sign from Lucas, hoping he would chime in but nothing. "Well see you around, Lucas." Dean heads back to Sam and Andrea, I smile, he seems really good with kids, I thought.

"Here." I place my drawing next to Lucas. "You can keep it...just know of you need anything, I'm here." Him still not responding, I make my way to the others.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident." I hear Andrea say.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry." Dean says softly.

"What are the Doctors saying?" I ask.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress." She explains.

"That can't be easy. For either of you." Sam intervenes.

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with." Dean smiles and looks over at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish-" Andrea goes silent as Lucas walks up, carrying a picture.

"Hey sweetie, you ok?" I kneel and smile, he hands me the picture. "Thank you..." It's a picture of the Carlton house....

~

Me and Dean are inside the motel room, I'm sitting at the table and Dean is sitting on a bed. Sam went to the library to get some books so we were alone.

"Y/n? Here." Dean suddenly speaks, he pats the seat next to him. I slowly walk over and sit next to him.

"You ok?"

"Yeah...About earlier, on the bridge...."

"Dean..."

"It's not that I don't want to I do trust me I do...."

"Don't apologize, it's ok I understand..." He glances over at me, his eyes showed a little bit of lust. We both started to lean, this feels wrong, I thought, but yet so right. We've only known each other for a few weeks, yet I wanted him more as his lips brushed against mine. Our lips connect, making me scoot closer but Dean pulls back again.

"We can't..." Yet he kisses me again muttering over and over one more. I slipped onto his lap, straddling him while pulling closer. Before we could possibly go any farther Sam opens the door and comes in as we quickly seperate.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie." He says, unaware of what was going on.

"What do you mean?" I questioned, Sam sits across from me and Dean.

"I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?" Dean asks.

"Yep. In the sink."

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?"

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake, that's the source." I chime in. "Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months so whatever this thing is, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere." Sam says as Dean stands up.

"This is gonna happen again soon. And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"Yeah, it took both his kids." Dean growls.

"I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris, is Bill Carlton's godson."

"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

~

We left to go to the Carlton house a s spotted Bill sitting on the bench on the dock. Sam speaks "Mr. Carlton?" He looks up, wondering who we are

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"We're from the, the Department-" Bill cuts Dean off.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death-we think there might be a connection to you or your family." I explain.

"My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please." Realizing we weren't gonna get any where we decide to head back to the car.

"What do you guys think?" Sam ask.

"I think the poor guy's been through hell. I also think he's not telling us something." Dean guesses, Sam leans on the Impala.

"So now what?" I ask, Dean goes still "What is it?"

"Huh...." Dean is looking at the Carlton house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something. Y/n do you have the picture Lucas gave to you?" I nod and pull it out, the picture Lucas brought him, which is of the Carlton house.

~

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea." Andrea says, we decided to give Lucas another visit hoping he'd talk to us.

"We just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes." I plead.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?"

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there." Sam explained.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son." Dean looks at her, hoping she'll say yes. Silently she agrees leads us into Lucas room with Sam and Andrea behind us, he's coloring, toy soldiers standing around him. We enter and Dean crouches down by Lucas. "Hey, Lucas. You remember us?" I notice Lucas has drawn two more pictures of a red bicycle. "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, we need your help again." Lucas is drawing a person in water. Dean opens the house picture and puts it down in front of Lucas.

"How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." He ignores Dean and keeps coloring. I slowly walk over and sit down in front of him. "You're scared. It's okay. I understand." Dean told him. "See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom...I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom-I know she wants me to be brave. Cause she taught me to be brave. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too...its ok if you don't want to, but I really need your help." Lucas drops his crayon and looks up at Dean then at me. He hands me a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence.

"Thanks, Lucas." I smile, which he returns making me fill with happiness. After we left Andrea's house the three of us are standing infront of the Impala, Sam examining the church picture.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died." Dean speaks.

"There are cases-going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam groans.

"It's all part of the process." I chime in. "Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?"

"You mean magically?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah, I mean he might be connected but he doesn't even know...but what does the church have to do with this?"

"I don't know, but the only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Sam looks at the picture. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart." Dean comments.

"Well what about the church we passed by when we drove into town?" I wondered  which the boys thought it wouldn't hurt. So we drove to the white church shaped like the one in Lucas's picture. There's a yellow house next to the church and a wooden fence near the house. When we got to the door, I knocked and a woman answered. We told her we were FBI, at first she was hesitant but eventually let's us in.

"Im sorry to mother you ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle." I ask.

"No Ms, Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now." She sighs, and I notice a picture of Peter on the side table. "The police never-I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam points out to Dean a number of toy soldiers on a table. Just like the ones at Luca's house, I thought, so I was right. "Losing him-you know, it's...it's worse than dying." She explained, however I felt someone staring at me, it was Dean. When we make eye contact he looks away, cheeks burning.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Dean asks.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up." Sweeny answers, I start to walk around and pick a picture off the mirror. There are two boys in the picture, one Peter with a bicycle. I read the back of the picture, the words made my eyes go wide. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy." I mutter, after the visit with Mrs. Sweeny, we decide to go talk to Bill again. "Mr. Carlton?" Sam calls out as we walk up to the house, we hear an engine roar. We run around the house to see Bill going out on the lake in his boat. "Hey, check it out." Dean says, pointimg towards the lake. We start to run to the end of the dock, yelling. "Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!"

He ignores us and keeps going, the boat was to far out, all I could see was the water rising up, making Bill's boat flip over.

~~

After the accident me, Sam, Dean, and Jake walk in the door of the police station. Andrea looks over, "Sam, Y/n, Dean." She stands up, putting the bag and a container on her chair. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first-name basis." Jake says. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home." Lucas looks up and whines, looking stricken. He jumps up and grabs my arm, pulling and tugging.

"Lucas, hey, what is it?" I kneel down, it was like he was trying to get a message to me but couldn't form the words. "Lucas?"

"Lucas." Andrea calls.

"Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." I say and was about to comfort him when Andrea pulls him away from me and leads him outside. He doesn't look away from me however. Jake throws down his jacket and goes into his office. The three of us follow behind. "Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill-who is a very good swimmer, by the way-into the drink, and you never see him again?" Jake summarizes, Dean glances at me.

"Yeah, that about sums it up." Dean mutters.

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service." Dean looks surprised. "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

"See, now, we can explain that."

"Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good." Sam says but I was about to protest.

"That's the one I'd pick." After that we left, packed our stuff an left. I was pissed, there is something happening here and we're just gonna leave? The three of us are in the Impala, waiting at a traffic light. A sign says I-43 North to Milwaukee is to the left. The light turns green, but the Impala doesn't move, after a few seconds Dean turns right.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Thats what I'm wondering to. Dean, this job, I think it's over." Sam tells him.

"I'm not so sure." Dean says.

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"Deans gotta point, I don't think this is over either." I agree.

"But why would you think that?" Sam questioned.

"Because Lucas was really scared."

"That's what this is about?" Sam groans.

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay." Dean agrees.

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?" Sam chuckles and Dean glances at Sam.

"Shut up."

~~

We arrived back at the Barr's and stood out there for at least a good five minutes.

"Are you sure about this? It's pretty late." Sam asks us, Dean rings the doorbell. At that moment, Lucas opens the door, desperately afraid.

"Lucas? Lucas!" I yell but he takes off. We follow him to the hallway, water is pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas starts pounding on the bathroom door again. Dean pushes him over to Sam and I kick in the door. Lucas grabs Dean and me, so Sam runs into the bathroom and sticks his arms in the tub, trying to pull Andrea out. She is pulled back under, and Sam is struggling, so I run over and help him out. The force is strong but not strong enough, we keep pulling until Andrea is all the way out. As soon as she's out she starts coughing up water, later Andrea is sitting in the living room, dry and wearing comfortable clothing.

"Can you tell me?" Sam asks, who is sitting next to me.

"No." She answers. Dean and I were looking through notebooks on bookshelves, to see if anything that is happening would relate to the situation.

"It doesn't make any sense." She starts crying. "I'm going crazy." She puts her face in her hands.

"No, you're not. Tell me what happened. Everything." Sam pleads.

"I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice."

"What did it say?"

"It said...it said 'come play with me'. What's happening?" Dean pulls out a scrapbook that says "Jake - 12 years old" and opens it, flipping pages. He closes it again, nudges me and we go over to Sam. He puts the book down in front of Andrea, open to a picture of Explorer Troop 37. "Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"

"What? Um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures." She moves her finger over to another picture of Jake as a child, he is standing next to Peter. Dean looks at Sam, then me.

"Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the Sheriff."

"Bill and the Sheriff-they were both involved with Peter." I muttered

"What about Chris? My dad-what are you talking about?" She asks, I look over to Lucas. "Lucas?" I call, he is staring out the window.

"Lucas, what is it?" Dean asks, Lucas opens the door and walks outside. We all follow him, he look determined.

"Lucas, honey?" Andrea calls as he stops and looks at the ground, then at Dean. "You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean says and Andrea pulls Lucas back to the house. Dean and Sam presumably fetch shovels from the Impala, before they start digging. After five minutes later I hold out my hand.

"Here Sam, I'll take over, why don't you go inside?" He nods and heads inside after handing me the shovel, so now it's just me and Dean. It was silent for a little while, until I spoke. "So, we gonna talk about it?" Dean glances at me.

"About what?"

"...The kiss, that Sam sort of ruined." He laughs.

"Well uh...what is there to talk about?" He stops, making me stop as I walk over to him, lightly placing my hand on his. "Dean I...Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why kiss me? I mean do you...love me? Or is this just a fling." He goes silent for a second, but speaks.

"I don't know what I feel...however when I'm with you I'm happy..." I smile, I make him happy, I thought. "Y/n...I know your seventeen, but I want to be with you. So will you be my girlfriend?" Quickly I nod which makes a flower bloom on his features. He slams his lips against mine. He drops the shovel and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. Sam clears his throat while laughing silently and we pull away, both of our cheeks red. "Am I interrupting?" I chuckle and we go back to digging as awkwardness fills the air. My shovel clanks against something, and me and Dean dig with our hands, pulling out a red bicycle.

"Peter's bike." I whisper.

"Who are you?" Jake growls from behind us, pointing a gun.

"Put the gun down, Jake." I tell him.

"How did you know that was there?"

"What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried."

"I don't know what the hell your talking about."

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about." Just then Andrea runs up yelling. "Dad!"

"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit." Dean mentions.

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does." I tell Jake, he scoffs.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?"

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton." Sam explains.

"Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake." Dean begs.

"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asks, voice shaking.

"No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me." Jake does. "Tell me you-you didn't kill anyone." He looks away in shame. "Oh my God." 

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Jake tells us and Dean glances at Sam. "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now." Dean warns, but Andrea turns her head and spots Lucas going down to the lake, she gasps. We turn to what she's looking at, "Lucas!" I yell and I run up to the dock. Lucas is leaning over the side, reaching for a toy soldier in the water. "Lucas!" Dean yells.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are" Andrea yells. A hand comes up and pulls Lucas into the water. The adults have reached the edge of the lake. Jake stops as Peter's head is visible, Jake recognizes him. We keep running to the end of the dock.

"Oh my God!" Andrea yells. She takes off her jacket to jump in.

"Andrea, stay there!" I say and I jump in, I could hear Andrea trying to get to Lucas.

"We'll get him! Just stay on the dock!" Sam pleads. I could see Lucas at the bottom and I swim down there to get him. He was being dragged down, I swim faster, what I didn't understand is Lucas was let go and started floating upwards. Did the ghost just let him go? That doesn't matter, I grab Lucas and swim back to the surface. I emerge while holding Lucas, who isn't moving.

~

The three of us walk out of the motel, Dean opens his car door and Sam tosses a duffel in.

"Look, we're not gonna save everybody." Sam says, he was referring to Jake who died to save Lucas.

"I know." Dean sighs.

"Sam, Dean." Andrea walks up with Lucas. "Hey." Me and Dean say at the same time. "We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Lucas is carrying a tray of sandwiches.

"Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas excitedly asks.

"Of course." Andrea smiles and kisses his head.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." Dean says.

"How you holding up?" I ask Andrea.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?" I sigh. "Andrea, I'm sorry, if I knew-" She silences me and shakes her head.

"You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that." I smile as Dean walks up to me with Lucas.

"All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas laughs.

"That's right. Up high." Dean holds his hand up for a high-five. Lucas obliges, grinning.

"You take care of your mom, okay?"

"All right." The both of them leave, Dean smiles and gives me a peck on the lips, then goes around the car.

"Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

"Yeah yeah ok." Sam chuckled as we all got in, continuing with our adventure.

The New Hunter Masterlist

@samsgirl93 @nani-gram @eliwinchester99

[sarcastically-defensive17]

New Man - T. Holland

@starshonerose and I love Tom Holland a bunch and this kinda just exploded into my brain when I was listening to King Ed Sheeran.

Hope y’all like this! I was happy about it when I finished it but idk how y’all will feel!

Original story by Sarcastically-defensive17

Send in a request if you want! (And if you don’t mind waiting while I drown in uni work)

Anthony was... something. He was a careless boyfriend, a liar, a cheater, and just an all round twat.

Tom couldn’t help the anger he felt every time he saw his overworked, muscular arm wrapped around Y/N’s waist.

I heard he spent five hundred pounds on jeans, goes to the gym at least six times a week.

Sure, Tom worked out. A lot. He was Spider-Man, he had a physique to uphold, but Anthony was something else.

Letting Y/N go was one of the worst decisions he had made. They didn’t part on bad terms, they simply didn’t have time for each other and decided it was best to break up.

Now, he can’t help but wish he was Anthony, and wish he didn’t have to hear about her new man.

Wears both shoes with no socks on his feet and I hear he's on a new diet at watches what he eats. He's got his eyebrows plucked and his asshole bleached; owns every single Ministry CD.

The man was the definition of a douche bag, and Tom knew his only chance was to remind Y/N of the woman she was before Anthony worked his way into her life.

The type of woman that she would pride herself on being.

Tribal tattoos and he don't know what it means but I heard he makes you happy, so that's fine by me.

Being Harrison’s little sister, she was around a lot. And so was Anthony. He couldn’t deny how obviously happy he made her, and that in turn made him happy.

Sure, he was determined to get through to the woman, but if she told him to back off then he would listen to her.

Still lookin' at your Instagram and I'll be creepin' a lil'. I'll be tryin' not to double tap, from way back ‘cause I know that's where the trouble's at.

“If you are looking through my sisters Instagram again, mate, I may have to smack you,” He heard Harrison’s voice ring through their shared house.

Somehow his best friend always knew that he was creeping on the old memories they shared.

“Can’t help it,” tom mumbled. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but notice how much happier she looked when she was his. Before she found Anthony.

He can’t help but think she is faking her happiness.

Let me remind you of the days when you used to hold my hand, and when we sipped champagne out of cider cans. I guess if you were Louis Lane, I wasn't Superman just a young boy tryin' to be loved so let me give it to ya.

His heart basically stopped one night when a notification chimes on his phone. A DM from Y/N’s Instagram account. His heart raced, trying to figure out if he accidentally liked a picture from long ago.

The message was simple: You busy? I can’t stop thinking about you.

She tried to convince him to spend the night with her, and he was considering it, until he remembered that she was with Anthony. He hated the man, but he knew it wasn’t right.

This isn’t the type of person Y/N is. How unhappy is she?

I don't wanna know about your new man 'cause if it was meant to be you wouldn't be callin' me up tryin' to... 'Cause I'm positive that he don't wanna know about me.

A few days after, Harrison spent the day with his sister, consoling her after an intense argument with her significant other.

Tom didn’t know what it was about, but he was ready to pull his brown hair out in frustration when the following day the two were all over Instagram professing their love for one another.

Yet, Tom still receives messages from her, reminiscing on their relationship and subtly flirting. He couldn’t help but let his feelings flow through his fingertips and engage in the flirtatious comments.

I don't wanna know about your new man; We'll get there eventually. I know you're missin' all this kind of love but I'm positive that he don't wanna know about me.

She was so different. He noticed how unhappy she was deep down. She hid it well. How she would spend hours forcing herself to slim down. She changed her diet, he noticed that she was selling the near hundreds of books that she had read countless of times.

It was like she became a new woman for Anthony.

He had just hoped she made the changes for herself.

You were the type of girl who sat beside the water readin', eatin' a packet of crisps, but you will never find you cheatin'. Now you're eatin' kale, hittin' the gym keepin' up with Kylie and Kim.

He took the plunge and knocked on her door one afternoon. He was met with her, wearing athletic wear and a frown deeply set on her lips that he had always admired.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He practically barged his way in. “Anthony here?”

She shook her head, following him as he took a seat on the lounge.

“He’s out with some work mates.”

He gazed around the house. It was as if Y/N didn’t live there. The comfortable quirkiness that used to inhabit every room she occupied was fading, and he hated it.

“What’s going on?” He repeated his question, eyeing her carefully as she dropped her gaze to her feet.

“Nothing? What do you mean?” Her voice was soft, and her posture radiated discomfort.

He wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and hold her like he would before.

He should never have let her go.

“What happened to my Y/N?” He was sad. He was angry. He was frustrated. He was worried.

“I’m not your Y/N, Tom. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Why’re you selling your books?”

“Don’t need ‘em.”

“Why?”

She huffed through her nose, “what is your point, Tom? I have stuff to do.”

“My point, darling, is that you are a completely different person,” he stood, placing his hands on her shoulders softly. “What is going on?”

She refused to meet his eyes, instead stalking off to the kitchen where he noticed a distinct lack of real food.

Y/N was the type of girl who loved to indulge in a greasy burger or chips from the local fish and chip shop. Now, all Tom could find was protein shakes, weight loss supplements, kale. His face contorted in confusion.

She noticed Tom eyeing the open pantry, and the grocery bags full of vegetables.

“Anthony convinced me to try this new diet. Said it wouldn’t hurt to lose a few kilos,” her voice was quiet, fearing the reaction from the brown eyed man.

“He told you to lose weight?”

She nodded softly, eyes downcast.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“If Harrison knew about this-“

“Harrison won’t know about anything tom!” She snapped, her eyes meeting his. He practically melts at the view, despite the fierce look on her face. “There is nothing for him to know because nothing is wrong.”

He pulled his brows together, frowning at the woman who he knew deserved so much better.

“Y/N, he is trying to change you! You are already so different to the person I know you are and it’s scaring me. You aren’t the type of girl to waste her time trying diets and dressing up just to post a photo to Instagram. You are the type of woman that is who she is. You’re the woman that prefers to be comfortable and happy rather than lose a few kilos and put your health at risk.” He had moved a lot closer to her now. His hands were on her face, wiping a tear away that she didn’t realize had fallen. “You’re the woman I am in love with.”

That struck a nerve inside of Y/N. She wasn’t angry, nor was she upset. She was simply confused.

She had tried for so long to move on from Tom, as they both decided they needed to focus on their own lives, especially with Tom traveling here and there to film.

She found Anthony when she was at her lowest and she can’t bear to lose another man that she had in her life. She couldn’t tell herself that she loved Anthony. She knew her heart still belonged to Tom, but she was determined to try to move on.

But Tom’s words through a metaphorical spanner in the works.

Okay, you need to be alone

And if you wanna talk about it, you can call my phone

“I-,” her voice was shaky, her mind racing to think of what to say. All she knew was that his hands on her face was conflicting her thoughts. She shrugged him off, “I need you to go. I need to be alone, Tom. Please.”

He nodded silently, moving towards the door before pausing.

“If you need me, give me a ring, Y/N. I mean it. You deserve better than him.”

I just thought I would tell you, 'cause you oughta know. You're still a young girl tryin' to be loved, so let me give it to ya.

The late nights messages stopped for a few days, until one night a simple message read: “Am I really that different now?”

His heart broke as he apologised to her. He didn’t mean to upset her that badly, he simply wanted her to acknowledge that Anthony was changing her so much. The man grew more controlling as the days went on; even limiting her from visiting her brother because of Tom and his brothers being around.

Everybody was quickly getting fed up.

Baby, I'm not tryin' to ruin your week, but you act so differently, when you're with him, I know you're lonely.

The messages ended in a phone call, Y/N’s sob filled voice flowing through the receiver and Tom whispering sweet nothings and reassurances through the device.

“Darling, you don’t need to stay with him,” he told her. He kept his voice low as to not alert Harrison to their call.

If he found out his sister was in such a tough spot with her controlling boyfriend, he sure as hell wouldn’t let it go on without his fist connecting with Anthony’s face.

“I don’t know, Tom. He loves me,” she replied, her voice as turning up in a question at her last word.

He simply sighed, “If you decide you want to leave him, you know where to go.”

He told her the same thing every time he ended a phone call.

Please remember you're still free to make the choice and leave. Don't call me up, you need to show me.

Almost a week later, a soft knock reverberated through the wooden door, and Tom opened it to revel Y/N in one of her oversized shirts and skinny jean combos that he adored so much.

She smiled wider than he had seen in the entire time she had been with Anthony.

“I broke up with him. He didn’t want me to see you anymore because he saw our messages. I couldn’t lose you again,” her voice was soft, the way it normally is. “You up for a burger?”

Tom’s beaming smile matched hers and pulled her into a bear hug.

His Y/N was back.

I don't wanna know about your new man

[d-noona]

MAKE OVER

Chapter 7: Fairy God Mommy

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

After that nothing could have made Hyeonji happy, not even when Mrs. Jung returned with her still apologetic mother in tow. Amazingly, Zil was thrilled by the idea of becoming Mrs Jung's cleaner, then estatic when Hoseok explained his refinancing offer.

"Isn't that wonderful news Hyeonji?" Her mother exclaimed. "Now we wont have to have a stranger in the house. And you'll have money for yourself for a change."

Hyeonji smiled and said yes, it was wonderful. She smiled all through lunch and laughed when the four of them moved Mrs Jung's living room furniture to new spots, then have to move everything back again to their original places when the end result did not please Mrs Jung's creative eye.

No one would have guessed how wretched Hyeonji felt. She was a past master at hiding her feelings, especially around Hoseok. But her heart grew heavier as the hours passed. By afternoon tea, she was exhausted with the emotional strain of pretending to be bright and breezy when inside she was shattered. Hoseok's getting back with Tinashe the following Sunday was the final straw.

His eagerness for their reconciliation had been palpable, his body language reeking of sexual frustration as he'd spoken of his time away from Tinashe. He could not wait to jump back into bed with her. Hyeonji could no longer fool herself. Any attention he'd been giving her had been the result of his boredom, not because of any suddenly selfless maturity.

"You won't forget about the refinancing," she reminded him stiffly when it came time for them to leave.

"Not at all. In fact, your mom is going to provide me the relevant papers this very afternoon. I'll collect them shortly, Zil, and have Sejin get onto it first thing this week, then I'll bring up whatever needs to be signed next Saturday." As Hoseok elaborates what he plans to have his secretary do.

"You coming home next Saturday, are you?" Hyeonji asked with a weary resignation. Normally, the thought of Hobi being around thrilled her to pieces. Now there was no pleasure in the news, only the cynical thought that of course he was coming home. Had nothing better to do till Sunday, did he?

"Yes, I've been invited to speak at a local business awards dinner on Saturday night. I'm also presenting the prizes" he says.

"How nice." Hyeonji answers blandly.

"Why don't you take Hyeonji, Hoseok?" His mother suggested. "The invitation says "and partner"."

Hoseok's instant frown was enough to turn Hyeonji off the idea, despite her stupid heart giving one last feeble leap. His eyes turned her way then travelled slowly over her. She could actually see his brain ticking away. Dear old Hyeonji doesn't look half bad now. She wouldn't be an embarrassment to take, not like she would have been a week ago.

"Would you like to go?" He asked her. "It's a black tie, so you'll need a dinner dress."

Hyeonji steeled herself to do the one thing she'd thought she would never do. Reject the man she loved. "Thank you Hobi," she said with superb indifference, "but I have other plans for next Saturday night."

His brown eyes instantly clouded a small stab of triumph lifted her spirits momentarily., quickly followed by a much stab of despair. Tears threatened and she just had to get out of there. Panic had her glancing around for her mother. "Ready to go home Mum?" She asked, determined to keep up the false gaiety to the bitter end. "I have quite a bit to do before the working week starts tomorrow."

"My working week starts tomorrow too, doesn't it Mrs Jung?" Zil returned happily.

"Indeed it does."

"Thank you so much," Zil went on, clasping her neighbor's hands with her own with rather touching gratitude. "For lunch. And...and everything."

Mrs Jung smiled and patted Zil's hands. "It's I who's grateful. I've found myself a wonderful cleaner and a new friend as well. See you in the morning Mrs Kang."

"And I'll be seeing you later Mrs Kang!" Hoseok called out as Hyeonji shepherded her mother out of the house. "To get those papers."

"What nice people they are," Zil said on the short way home. "And wasn't it kind of Hoseok to help us out with that money business?"

"Yes, it was." Hyeonji admitted, but tight-lipped.

A silence descended between the two women as they made their way inside, but Hyeonji could feel her mother watching her.

"Why didn't you say yes when Hoseok asked you to go out with him?" Zil asked once they were safely alone in the kitchen. "It...it wasn't because of what I said earlier, was it? About not being...well...pretty enough for him? Because that's not true, Hyeonji. You're plenty pretty enough. And he really likes you. I can see that now. He could hardly take his eyes off you all over lunch, and then later he..."

"Oh Mum, please," Hyeonji begged. "You don't have to lie. You were right the first time."

"No, darling. I wasn't. I was wrong. Very wrong. And I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself. I was feeling sorry for myself, and I was afraid. Yes, afraid." She repeated when Hyeonji's eyes widened. "Afraid some man would snap you up, looking as you do now, and I'd be left all alone in this world."

"But today opened my eyes there's Mrs Jung, a widow like myself, but she doesn't sit around feeling sorry for herself. Besides her writing, she plays golf and bingo and bridge. And she doesn't tie that boy of hers to her apron-strings, either. I can see its up to me to make something of my life for myself. I know becoming a cleaner isnt much but at least I'm good at it, and it's a start. I might even go to that hair dresser of yours with some of my cleaning money and become a blonde!"

"Oh Mum!" Hyeonji exclaimed, a burst of very real joy dragging her heart back out of the doldrums. "You've no idea how happy you made me, hearing you say that."

"Do you forgive me for saying those awful things to you, my dear? I didn't mean them, you know."

Hyeonji couldnt help but relent. "Of course, I forgive you," she said gently. "I love you Mom."

"Oh Hyeonji," her mother crude, and threw her arms around her daughter.

Unfortunately , it was not the best of time for Hyeonji to be hugged. Her mother's display of affection tipped her over the edge on which she'd been balancing for several hours., splintering the brittle control which she'd been holding in her misery. Her shoulders began to shake as sobs racked her whole body. "Oh my daughter," her mother groaned, and hugged her even more tightly. "Dont cry, darling. Please dont cry. Oh, you make me feel terrible. If only I hadn't said those awful things, you would have probably gone out with Hoseok when he asked you. It's my fault!"

"No, it isn't," Hyeonji sniffled when she at last pulled out of her mother's arms. "Hoseok only asked me out because Tinashe's trying to prove some point or other and she's refused to have anything to do with him for a month. But come next Sunday they'll be back together again, as thick as thieves. Who knows? If she plays her cards right he might even ask her to marry him."

"What rubbish!" Her mother pronounced firmly, startling Hyeonji. "Hoseok is not in love with that flashy bit of goods. No man in love with one girl looks at another girl as he looked at you today."

Hyeonji was dumbfounded. "But I...I didn't notice him looking at me in a special way..."

"Then you're as blind as he is, my girl. You made a big mistake refusing to go out with him next Saturday night. Now listen here; when he comes over to pick up those papers, you tell him you've changed your mind and you'd like to go after all."

"But...but..." Hyeonji stammered.

"NO buts. You said he's not getting back with that Tinashe till Sunday. Make the most of what time you have!" Zil pushed Hyeonji with both her arms on her waist.

"I was just going to say I don't have anything to wear," Hyeonji smiled weakly.

"Well, that's easily fixed."

"How? Hoseok's accountant can't get us anymore money immediately. And I'm not taking the cleaning money you earn, Mom. No way. One hundred dollars wouldnt be nearly enough anyway," she added with a sad sigh. "A dinner dress, complete with shoes and bag doesn't come cheap these days."

"Would five hundred dollars do?"

"Five hundred! But where?... I mean..." Hyeonji surprised at her mother.

Zil smiled her pleasure at her daughter's surprise. "You're not the only one who has rainy-day money stashed away, my girl. Come this way."

Hyeonji followed, fascinated, while her mother led her upstairs and into the master bedroom where she proceeded to lift up the mattress and draw out a battered brown paper envelope. She opened the flap and tipped the contents out onto the patchwork quilt. Notes of all sizes fluttered down, mostly fives, tens and twenties.

"I used to hide this is an empty washing powder box in the laundry when your father was alive. But now its safe enough out here. I know there's at least five hundred dollars, maybe more." She gathered the money up and pressed them into Hyeonji's hands. "I want you to buy yourself a dress which will knock Hoseok's eyes out!"

Hyeonji hated the wild rush of elation ehich flooded her heart, for she feared she was setting herself up for a disaster of monumental proportions. No matter what her mother said and no matter what dress she brought, how could she seriously compete with Tinashe? It was like comparing a nice little house wine with a top brand french champagne. Tinashe's extravagant self fizzed sparkled. She was special-occassion lady whereas she, was the common, everyday, value for money variety.

When Hoseok looked at her he only ever saw a familiar face. And everyone knew what familiarity bred. Contempt. Never chemistry.

Or was that how he'd seen her in the past? Dared she hoped that her new look had evoked a new appreciation? Hyeonji had told the truth when she'd said she hadn't notice Hoseok looking at her differently today. But after his news about Tinashe she'd been too upset to notice anything, and had avoided Hoseok's eyes as much as possible.

Could her mother's observations possibly be correct, or was she just trying to make her daughter feel better? She'd been guilty over her earlier less than generous remarks. Hyeonji didn't want to keep her hopes up. And yet, something was stirring within her soul. Something she'd never felt before. Something rather wicked.

Tinashe had called her a sly piece. Maybe she was right, Hyeonji thought with a steeling of her spirit. Because I am not going to go quietly, Tinashe, darling. Neither am I going to let you have Hoseok back without a fight. Come Saturday night, I'm going to use every female trick in the book.

The trouble was...she hadn't read that particular book yet. She would have to depend on her feminine instinct. The front doorbell ringing startled both of them. "That'll be Hoseok," Zil said urgently. "Now drop that money and go down and talk to him while I get those papers he wants. Tell him you've changed your mind about Saturday night, and ask him what time he wants you ready by. Be cool, though. Not overly eager."

Hyeonji shocked at her mother "Mum, you sneaky thing!"

"Well there is no point in being easy. Any girl who looks as good as you do can pkay a little hard to get. Besides, men never want what they think they can have, gratis. They like a bit of a challenge."

Hyeonji went down stairs shaking her head. Who would have believed that within her own shy reserved mother lurked the makings of a femme fatale? Heaven knew what would happen if the Kang widow became a blonde!

Hyeonji summoned up a pleasant smile to answer the door, resolving to watch this time for any sign that Hoseok looked at her differently in any way.

"Hello there again," she said. "Mum wont be a minute with those papers. Look, about next Saturday night Hobi, that was rude of me to dismiss your very nice invitation out of hand. I know what its like to go to these things alone..."

She didn't actually, because she's never been to an awards dinner. But Hyeonji had never lacked imagination. Just think of all those times Hosoek had made lover to her in her mind. Unfortunately, she began thinking of one those times right at this moment. It was her favorite scenario where Hoseok was concerned. He would bring her home to this door after a serious date and there would be much kissing and panting on the front porch. When she finally unlocked the door, he would push her inside, then scoop her up into his arms and carry her upstairs to her room where a three-foot bed was no barrier to true love.

Her mouth dried as she thought of their naked bodies blended tightly, writhing together. Her brown eyes glittered as they began unconsciously to rove over the object of her desire. Before they reach his waist, Hyeonji swallowed then cleared her throat. "Er...could I possibly change my mind and say yes?"

He stiffened. He actually stiffened. Why?

"Is there a problem with that?" She asked airily, even while her heart was thudding. He stood there frowning at her. The atmosphere on that doorstep was suddenly charged with a quite alien tension. Hyeonji didnt know what to make of it except that she found herself holding her breath.

"Hobi?" She choked out.

He seemed to have to shake himself to answer her. "No." He muttered. "No problem. I'll look forward to it."

Hyeonji had to be careful not to let all her breath out of her lungs in a rush. "Fine," she said with a small smile. "Well, where is this dinner and what time should I be ready?"

"Its being held down at the League's Club, in the Admiral's Quarters. The dinner starts at eight. Pre-drinks at seven thirty. I'll pick you up at...say...seven?"

Hyeonji nodded "I'll be ready. And thanks again for helping us with the finance business."

"My pleasure." He answered.

But it didn't look as if it was his pleasure. Not at all. He hadn't smiled once since she'd opened the door. Hyeonji could not make head or tail of his mood, except that it was obvious he had mixed feelings about taking her to that dinner.

She prayed his reluctance was because he'd begun to feel things for her which he found confusing, and not because Tinashe might get jealous if she ever found out. Her mother's arrival at that point steered the conversation to a less stressful grounds. Hoseok left a couple of minutes later and as Zil closed the front door she threw Hyeonji a questioning glance. "Well? What happened? You both seemed tense when I came down."

Hyeonji shrugged. "I don't really know. I told him I changed my mind about the dinner, and he agreed to take me, but not with great enthusiasm. To be honest, I think it worried the heck out of him."

"Well that's better than indifference, Hyeonji."

Nodding her head Hyeonji agreed "That's what I was thinking."

Zil patted her daughter's back "Only time will tell."

Chapter 08

Masterlist

[existentialstatesofmind]

Opening Up

Clare: made a face. “Sounds like a punishment. Was she trying to educate you or prove some point? I don’t think my mom is willing to go there. She answered some questions I had last year and it was actually more uncomfortable for her.” She nodded when Kota mentioned Skins. “Oh right, I have watched Skins and Game of Thrones is another one full of nudity. I don’t mind cute boy butts but I could do without gratuitous sex scenes.” Clare closed her eyes when it got to be too much. “I like crab so that would be okay. Not necessarily! I eat seafood just not fish. I won’t be the only one. Someone else will try it and not like it.” Clare protested. What were the odds a group of Canadians were all going to love raw fish? She couldn’t even stomach fried fish! “I’m fine with cooking it though. I’ve never thrown up from the smell alone.” She smiled at the mention of having weekends without Emi. “I hope she doesn’t forget about us.” Clare chuckled knowing how many friends Emi had left behind in Japan. She talked about them a lot. “Can I demand date nights?” Clare asked curiously. “Good point. I place more importance on stuff like kissing and cuddling since it’s all we’re doing right now. K.C did not.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t kiss another guy unless it was part of an act. Probably not even to make you jealous.” Clare hoped she wouldn’t have a reason to test that theory. “Of course I’d like to be a waitress! Thanks.” She gave exaggerated groan at Kota’s insistence it was cute. “No way.” Clare looked at her boyfriend in askance. “I have to keep track of how much money I’m spending! Somewhat at least. Dad’s not going to ask for receipts, it will just show up somewhere. Credit card statements, how much I withdraw from his bank account…” Her voice trailed off. “If you’re talking about buying me clothes, fine, I promise not to. I’ll trust you not to spoil me. What?!” Clare squealed in horror at the mention of dead turtles and other unthinkable things. There was no telling whether or not Emi’s mom would come back for her. If Emi left, she’d miss her and hope for visits. “I don’t want to hide our relationship. Not forever. We have to get them on board one step at a time. Then if they’re assholes about Emi...well. I’m not going to expose her to them. My parents wouldn’t have any problem with you raising your little cousin if you were in your 20s. They’re prejudiced against teenagers.” Clare grumbled. “I’m glad.” She whispered giving him one last lingering kiss. “Anything’s possible.” She insisted. “Kota being famous is news to me!” Clare nodded. “Ah. I’ve only been to Maine on ski vacations. I’m still working on going to New York. So my perspective is a bit skewed. Fashion’s dead last here. Kids at school still think they can just hassle Kota for Murder Bunny products. Music’s held in a higher regard.” She told Melanie. “Jimmy Fallon wears Murder Bunny? They do? Kota is?!” Clare looked like she’d been told the earth was flat after all. “Oh wow.” She looked at Kota as he explained about the fashion show and the lingerie line. She remembered the first time she slept over at his house and how Kota was baffled about Clare not wanting him to see her bra when she wasn’t even wearing it. He was desensitized. Her lips twitched as she suppressed hysterical laughter. Clare glared at her boyfriend a little at the mention of how he wouldn’t be touching model's breasts. There should never be a question of that. It wasn’t professional. The rest of it Clare had to accept must be part of his job as a designer. But she really, really didn’t like him seeing half naked women! After Melanie left to change, Clare continued to listen to Kota. Then gaped at the photo of Sia and the accompanying letter. “She’s so cute, I guess it really is her!” Not like Clare knew Sia’s handwriting. “Kota I don’t know what to say. Your life is crazy amazing.” She handed back his treasures. “You look great Melanie. It’s true. Our only local celebs are hockey players. West Drive films here and the cast is mostly left alone.” Clare walked hand in hand with Kota to his car. She got in and buckled. “The mall’s good. There’s a Chipotle, a few other restaurants, or the usual food court fare.” She had to meet Alli later, anyway.

Kota: looked at Clare. "It was to educate us, though the movie The Girl Next Door taught us more than American Pie did and I don't believe there was nudity in The Girl Next Door either." he shrugged. "I've never seen Games Of Thrones to be honest." He admitted and looked at her. "We will probably have crab because Emi loves it. Connor hates seafood, but he likes tofu they will substitute fish with tofu. The only ones going to Japan that actually like sushi are me and Eli." he stated honestly and nodded when Clare mentioned being fine with cooking fish. "She'll be with us on weekdays so she won't forget about us." he chuckled. "You can demand date nights and I'm glad you won't kiss another guy to make me jealous because if you did that, it wouldn't make me jealous it'd make me think we were over so please don't do that." he chuckled softly at her next words. "No problem and some of the stuff in Japan is going to be written in Japanese in most places, if that's the case I'll only tell you if it's something you're going to buy and not something I'm buying for you and yes, they eat turtles and sharks in Japan." he assured. "If that's the case with your parents I'll show them report cards from TU to show them I can handle both." He suggested and Mel looked at him when Clare mentioned him being hassled. "The guy I saw last night hearing the football jacket when I went to surprise you.." she trailed off. "Wasn't hassling me, he needed to talk. Not many people can hassle me for Murder Bunny at school anymore. I've been busy with some things during free periods." He confirmed. "Yes, he does." Mel said going through her phone and showing Clare a screen cap she took of Jimmy Fallon showing off his MB socks on his show by putting his foot on his desk and lifting a pant leg. "It's not really crazy amazing." He chuckled knowingly, there were things in school that he was mixed up in that he couldn't share with Clare. "Thank you." Mel said looking at Clare as she stood in her disguise. Hearing Clare mention the mall caused him to nod. "The mall it is." He chimed and drove to the mall. Right as he turned in, he noticed someone behind him and sighed before parking. Once he got out of the car he was met by Todd, the yearbook photographer. "Thank you." Todd said and Kota looked at him. "I don't want your thanks." He stated venomously as he walked to help Clare out. "You stopped Owen from killing me." Todd stated. "I didn't do it for you. I did it to keep Owen out of trouble. Had it been a different guy I would let him kill you. I'm totally not on your side." He said wrapping his arm around Clare's waist and walking with Mel. "I asked to go to Japan, Simpson said to talk to you. It's for yearbook." Todd added and Kota stopped dead in his tracks before turning to the boy. "Over my cold dead body. There's no way in Hell I'm letting you on my plane especially with a camera. Are you fucking stupid?" He fumed as Todd fidgeted as Kota started to walk away. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to." Todd yelled and Kota turned to him. "Prove it." He said holding his hand out and looking at Todd as he looked down. "What would you do with them?" Todd asked. "What do you think?" Kota questioned back and Todd shrugged suggestively as he looked down. "You sick fuck." He fumed as he clenched his fists and felt a hand on his shoulder to see Owen. "Clare is here, remember." Owen said reminding him. "Go with her and your friend. I'll deal with this piece of shit." Owen said and Kota walked to Mel and Clare. "Food, right?" he asked softly.